


Surprise

by ktbl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Kinktober 2020, Property Damage, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26853193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktbl/pseuds/ktbl
Summary: Brigitte arranges a surprise visit to MEKA to visit her girlfriend.—Kinktober 2020, Day 8: shower sex
Relationships: Brigitte Lindholm/Hana "D.Va" Song
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Surprise

Brigitte slings her rucksack over her shoulder. It’s taken a lot of planning to pull this off - between getting Reinhardt to slow down (and the excuse of a full overhaul on his armor), and coordinating with Hana’s friend Dae-Hyun. But now she’s here, and she’s gotten the ferry out to the base, and it’s all in Dae-Hyun’s hands now. She drops into a chair, just careful enough that she ought to be hidden by a large potted plant - or, at least, not immediately visible. She’s tall, Brigitte realizes again - tall and broad, compared to most of these Koreans, and especially the MEKA contingent. Yet another thing that makes her feel awkwardly out of place.

Then she hears it - Hana’s skeptical voice, pitched high, chattering away. She sounds like an airy little bird. Dae-Hyun comes in, Hana right beside him. Though she’s tried, Brigitte cannot get her head around verb endings and the particles, and can’t make heads or tails of the discussion in Korean. Dae-Hyun replies with something that sounds amused, and Hana makes a loud skeptical sound. Brigitte is pretty sure Hana hasn’t seen her yet, so she takes a few moments to look at her girlfriend, half-dressed in her MEKA uniform with a jacket over it. She’s smeared with grease on her cheeks and her headphones are around her neck, and she looks exhausted and beautiful and messy and Brigitte wants to kiss her. 

“You can take it from here,” Dae-Hyun says to Hana in English, and Brigitte sees her brown eyes are baffled. He drops the VISITOR badge in Hana’s hand, winks at Brig - maybe she hadn’t hidden well enough? - and slaps a hand on Hana’s shoulder. 

“I can take it from -?” Hana blinks, looks at the badge, then around the room. Her eyes narrow and look around at the officials and staff and flick over Brigitte once, keep going, and then slide back like targeting beams. “BRIGITTE!”

She’s like one of the missiles from Tokki, as Brigitte stands up to intercept her girlfriend. She catches Dae-Hyun grinning at her and giving a thumbs-up from the receptionist’s desk. Hana is all arms and long legs and surprising speed, grabbing at Brigitte’s jacket, at her shoulders; it’s as if she’s reassuring herself that Brigitte is real. Brigitte roots her feet against the floor and tries to stand firm at the impact.

“When did you get here?”

“Couple of hours ago.” Brigitte grins down, hugging Hana loosely. “Dae-Hyun helped me get everything together, let me know when you were free-ish. I’ve got a return flight in three days, I couldn’t get much time - but I thought you might not mind a visitor for a bit?”

“We were in the middle of doing some repairs on Tokki, I’m - I can’t leave yet, but-“

“Dae-Hyun said my clearance should be good.” Brigitte plucks the badge from Hana’s hand and clips it onto her jacket. “And I brought something from Pappa for you for Tokki anyway and I’m supposed to make sure it gets put in properly. Do you need another hand getting your mech back up?”

“You can always help,” Hana says fervently, and she untangles her fingers from Brigitte’s jacket. “Where are you staying?”

“I thought I’d ask if you had some room at your place. If not, I can always get a hotel-“

“No,” Hana interrupts. “You’re with me. I don’t have to stay on the base. We’ll finish up what I was working on, repair the last of the gouges-“

“Gouges?” Brigitte cuts her off, shoulders squaring. She looks out towards the ocean, where the Gwishin lurk beneath the waves.

“It was close, last time with the Gwishin,” Hana says almost apologetically, looking down at her own arm. “Tokki got banged up pretty badly. But he’s okay, and I’m okay, so.”

“Good.” She looks out towards the ocean where the omnics lurk. “Dae-Hyun says it was just a couple of days ago? That’s why I could come out now. Reinhardt’s armor is getting an overhaul. Pappa’s busy with it, so I stole some time.”

“Let’s get Tokki done, then, and then…” Hana’s eyes glint. “I can give you a proper welcome.”

They are covered in grease and Brigitte’s jeans and tee-shirt are nearly lost causes by the time they’re done. Brigitte has been squirming with the urge to kiss Hana, to pin her to a wall and make her go bright pink and whine with need. She wants to hear those high-pitched squeaks she makes when she’s close to coming, like she can’t get a full breath and her body is aching for release. There have been a lot of heady looks, Hana’s eyes all over her like she’s already thinking of stripping Brigitte down, and it starts a low, hot warmth burning in Brigitte’s core. Brigitte’s dropped more tools in three hours than she normally does in a week when she’s been busy ogling her girlfriend. It’s embarrassing, but apparently she just can’t focus when it’s been this long without Hana.

They tidy up as the base slowly empties, a few faces popping in to say farewell - and a few pointedly staring at Brigitte as they do. She can’t decide if she feels like a fish in a bowl or like Genji’s sizing her up at sparring practice, ready to find every weak point she has. They move to the conspicuously empty locker room, trying to get the worst of the oil off. Hana washes up at one of the several sinks, and Brigitte stands behind her, dipping her own hands into the water and soaping them up. It’s an almost-hug, but not quite.

“Hey, Hana?”

“Mmm?” The smaller woman looks up, meeting Brigitte’s eyes through the reflection in the mirror.

“Do you mind? The surprise?”

“No!” Hana’s mouth falls into an ‘o’ and she spins around, almost sending Brigitte off-balance. “No, no, no. I’m - I don’t normally like it when people keep secrets, but this explains why Dae-Hyun was grinning so much the past couple of days. He’s terrible at hiding things. And he wouldn’t say what it was at all, which drives me up a wall.” She leans back against the plascrete sink. “But you’re worth him keeping secrets.”

“I wasn’t sure… The past couple of times we’ve called, or made arrangements in advance, and I just wanted to…” Brigitte trails off, rinsing the soap off her hands and forearms. “I wanted to surprise you, properly.”

“You did.” Hana puts her hands on the edge of the counter and hops up onto the space between two sinks, and Brigitte moves with her. Hana’s hands twine around the taller woman’s neck, and she hauls her down for a kiss with surprising force. Hana is warm and soft and Brigitte could spend the rest of the day doing this - the rest of the visit, too. She reaches around to hoist Hana up off the counter, supporting her until the leggy brunette wraps her legs around Brigitte’s waist. It is like coming home after far too long away.

Hana relinquishes her claim for a few moments, long enough to gather breaths, and Brigitte laughs softly, tipping her head against Hana’s. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too. But this is…” Hana exhales, looking for words. “This is like… Oh!” Her face screws up in frustration. “I can’t describe it.”

“I know. It’s the same for me, too. It’s just…good. Back, being with you.” Brigitte kisses Hana’s nose. “I”m an absolute mess, this oil isn’t coming off. Is there a shower or something here I can hit? I’ll just change out of this, and you don’t have to worry about a replacement.” Her hands cup Hana’s ass, squeezing it gently. Hana makes a half-surprised half-startled sound and pushes into Brigitte. 

“We’ve got showers, but they’re - you know, everybody’s. I don’t think anyone else is still here. We’re not due for Gwishin.” Hana digs her heels into Brigitte’s thighs. “So if you want a shower here - I could probably use one too.”

“Right.” Brigitte grins, and she snugs Hana tighter against her. “Directions, I’ll get us there.”

Five minutes later, one of the shower cubicles is running full blast, steam beginning to fill the small space, and Hana is almost squirming with excitement. She watches with greedy, hungry eyes as Brigitte strip down almost methodically. The oil and grease are smeared up her arms, and there’s that tattoo black and bold on her bicep. Defined thighs and calves, and Hana wants to just wrap herself around Brigitte, or the opposite, skin to skin and savoring it.

She lets Brigitte step in first - Hana has done enough traveling she knows that bone-deep need to scrub yourself clean, and is sure Brigitte’s been aching for it. By the time Hana has peeled herself out of her clothes, she’s pretty sure she’s no longer writhing with need. She has to have gotten her hormones under control. She  hopes she did, at any rate. She steps into the steamy cubicle and sees her girlfriend, tall and slick with water and soap and impossibly wonderful naked in front of her, and suddenly all she wants to do is kiss her.

Brigitte must be thinking the same thing too, because she leans down to Hana. Brigitte is covered in bubbles and soap and smelling like MEKA’s degreaser, and suddenly Hana has pinned Brigitte to the flimsy plastic wall of the cubicle and is hunting out her mouth. She has no interest in being sweet and gentle, and she tangles one hand into Brigitte’s hair and her other blocks off the exit to the shower stall. Hana demands, and Brigitte gives, soapy hands seizing Hana’s biceps and pulling her close.

“I missed you,” Brigitte says again when they come apart for air, and Hana is hopelessly lost at the heat and longing in those big eyes.

“I missed you too,” she exhales, burrowing her face into Brigitte, between the curves of her full breasts, nipping gently at the inner curve of one. “I don’t know if I can wait to get back to my apartment,” she admits, and Brigitte laughs, shifting to keep the water from pouring on Hana as Brigitte kisses her again. 

Brigitte grabs soap and works it into a froth, rubbing it along Hana’s body in a decidedly teasing way, swiping around everything sensitive. She conspicuously avoids Hana’s nipples, the soft skin of her belly, her inner thighs. Soap bubbles about and every touch of Brigitte’s hands makes her lose her composure. Hana lathers up some soap of her own, dotting Brigitte like a leopard until water washes it away moments later.

Hana feels Brigitte move them, push Hana against the wall now, and work her way down Hana’s body with a slow and steady determination. Tongue and teeth trace the paths the water makes until Brigitte is kneeling on the floor between Hana’s thighs. She looks up as water spatters them, and Hana widens her stance a bit, spreads a hand against the wall, and the other knots into Brigitte’s hair.

Brigitte’s mouth works against the flow of water for a moment, nibbling and kissing up from Hana’s knees to the insides of her thighs. The combined sensations make the muscles in her legs quiver, and it is hard -so hard - not to sink down against Brigitte. And then a hand is there, holding her up; one of Brigitte’s broader hands, tucked up around the back of one of Hana’s thighs, and she tips against the wall and lets it take more of her weight. Standing is  hard the moment Brigitte slides her tongue up Hana’s thigh, her teeth nipping gently. Every contact makes something low and deep in Hana’s loins twitch.

Her heart flutters as Brigitte noses her way up into the dark springy curls, as if she’s circling around her target. Hana’s fingers clench in her girlfriend’s hair. She lets out a low whine as Brig teases and toys, working her way in a lazy spiral towards the aching space between Hana’s legs.

“Brig,” she begs softly, not sure if there’s anyone to hear her. “Please, Brigitte-“

“I’ll take care of you, Hana, don’t worry.” Brig doesn’t tip her head up, avoiding the water sluicing down on her. She just pulls back a bit, enough to be heard, before she moves inexorably forward again, making slow and precise progress towards her goal. Every contact makes Hana want to writhe, as if she’s a streamer caught in the wind. She never quite makes it there, teasing and tormenting. She wants more - and it’s like Brigitte can’t, or won’t. Hana rolls her hips against Brigitte. She responds with a low rolling grumbling sound.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can’t get an angle,” Brigitte complains, “and the water is killing me. Hang on.” One hand grabs Hana’s ankle, hefts it up over Brigitte’s shoulder. Hana wriggles a little, shifting and balancing one hand on the wall, the other still tangled in Brigitte’s hair. She can feel her muscles stretch as Brigitte adjusts, the light pull in her calf a brief distraction from the want between her legs. “This should do it.”

Brigitte dives in again, and that pull of her muscle is forgotten again at the contact. Hana slumps against the wall and surrenders to the sensation of Brigitte’s lips and tongue. Pleasure races through her and she grinds herself against Brigitte, seeking out more contact. Her fingers tangle deeper in Brigitte’s hair. Brigitte hums, lips vibrating against Hana, and she calls out, bucking forward into her mouth, rubbing herself against it. The desire streaks through her again, but all it does is build into a tight cyclone in her core; there’s no release. She lets out a frustrated sound that starts low and goes high. Brigitte pulls back, water pooling on her arms and matched by concern in her eyes. Her face is slick and gleaming, but it looks worried more than happy.

“Are you okay, Hana?”

“This isn’t working for me either,” she admits with some frustration and embarrassment. Brigitte frowns and considers for a moment, and then a smile cracks open her face. 

“I’ve got an idea. Trust me, all right?”

“Always do,” Hana replies, and then she seizes onto Brigitte’s head with both hands as suddenly the broader woman hefts her up, supporting Hana on her shoulders and her mouth settling between Hana’s thighs. Hana’s still up against the wall, the barrier holding some of her weight, but this - finally, this - gives Brigitte the access Hana wants her to have. Brigitte’s hands curve around the backs of Hana’s thighs, kneading and stroking. Hana isn’t sure how long they can manage this - she’s shocked they haven’t fallen over already, but Brigitte is rock-solid and dependable and Hana can finally let go. 

She tips her head back and the water pours down over both of them. Hana uses her arms and legs to shield Brigitte from the worst of it. Apparently Brigitte’s grateful, or equally relieved, because she doubles down and Hana is almost spluttering when she turns her face up. Hana drops her head, hair a heavy dark sheet around both of them. Brigitte caresses and squeezes the backs of Hana’s legs as she licks and tongues, pressing her nose into Hana’s clit and the pressure and friction send off a hundred thousand little currents carrying pleasure and sheer  need throughout her body. Hana rubs herself on Brigitte’s face, and she can hear a sharp, breathy series of squeaking sounds. Where are those coming from? Then it strikes her - they’re coming from  her \- and she has a moment of embarrassment again but it fades just as pleasure strikes her, the cyclone in her core whipping out and sending all of her to pieces. 

She arches against her girlfriend’s mouth and shudders, body sharply tense and her shoulders pushing back into the cubicle wall. She wobbles slightly as something gives, a cracking sound followed by the wall suddenly falling away. Hana’s hands dig in tight to Brigitte, trying not to topple backwards - and suddenly they’re sideways on the floor in a tangle of hands and feet and bodies.

Brigitte is  laughing and Hana is too full of the aftershocks of orgasm and ecstasy to be offended that her girlfriend is laughing at her.

“You broke it,” Brigitte says with a grin, sitting upright and pointing at the shower wall. “You came and you  broke it. ” She’s almost beaming, and also quaking with laughter. “I made you come so hard you  broke government property. ”

“I’m blaming you,” Hana says, trying to feel put out but failing, and she can feel her own grin splitting her face. “But it was worth it.”

“Good.” Brigitte stands up carefully and turns off the shower, looking at the stall wall and how it’s popped two screws and has a rather large crack where it didn’t before. It’s not quite completely collapsed, but there’s going to need to be a story concocted about the damage. Brigitte reaches a hand down and helps lift Hana to her feet, holding her close in the fading steam of the shower. “Still. I can’t believe that.”

“You’d better,” Hana replies, letting out her own laugh and poking the wall with a hand. “I’m going to make you stand with me when I explain it to Captain Myung.” 

“Can’t I just… I don’t know, weld it back together? Give me a couple minutes and some equipment…” Brigitte looks piteous, almost nervous, and Hana laughs. 

“We’ll make it work. Tomorrow, anyway. Let’s get out of here, and go back to my place.” She grins at her girlfriend and winks. “I want to share the love.”


End file.
